“We are compiling a list of men who might be interested in Uncle Charles’s latest venture. Evangeline believes there is a possibility the map has no value in itself, but it could lead to the discovery of a fabled group of mercenaries that roamed the desert hundreds of years ago.”
Regina’s sister eagerly recounted what she’d learned from reading her uncle’s notes and presented a credible argument to support her belief.
“The group’s reach was further than the desert. As I said, there are reports of strikes occurring in Europe as well. If they actually existed and proof can be found, it will be a windfall for the antiquarian who finds it first. The discovery could be as momentous as the Rosetta stone. Uncle Charles will be famous,” Evangeline concluded in a breathy voice.
Regina explained how they were talking with others about their Uncle Charles with the hope the name of a potential competitor came up in conversation. “At least it would allow us a place to start. We have nothing to go on now, and I am unwilling to take a passive approach when it comes to protecting our families.”
Affection swelled like a wave inside him, washing over him. For as long as he could remember, he’d convinced himself he didn’t care—not about family, others’ judgments of him, or what became of him. He had professed love for his mother and sister when they asked, but the words had been obligatory and rote. Deep inside, he’d known it was true—he did love Mother and Serafine—but if his father caught him showing affection to either one, he called Xavier weak and punished him with the intentions of turning him into a man.
Xavier had learned during his exile that the true measure of a man was his ability to love without fear, and in this moment, he was sure he loved Regina. Unfortunately, they had an audience. He held his hand out, and she placed her smaller one in his.
He smiled. “We will keep our families safe together.”
It wasn’t the most elegant profession of love, nor direct, but he would have many opportunities to tell her, and he made a silent vow to tell her every day for the rest of their lives.
When they returned to the ballroom, Regina stiffened beside him. A lanky gentleman with stooped shoulders raised a hand in greeting then headed in their direction.
“Mr. Lawrence,” Evangeline spat. “If he knows what is good for him, he will keep his distance.”
What a coincidence. If memory served, Lawrence was the name of the weasel that had started the rumors about Regina.
“Pardon me, ladies.” Xavier intercepted him and spun him around in the opposite direction. “Might I have a word with you, sir?”
The man threw a look back over his shoulder as Xavier escorted him from the ballroom. “I was coming to congratulate you and Miss Darlington on your betrothal.”
“How thoughtful,” Xavier drawled. “We are touched, I assure you.” He tightened his grip on the man’s arm. Nodding his thanks to the footman for holding the door, Xavier practically dragged Lawrence into the dimly lit corridor leading to the card room. The quartet’s music grew muffled as the footman closed the door behind them.
Lawrence stumbled as he tried to keep up with Xavier’s determined strides. “Is there a problem, sir? Have I done something to offend?”
Xavier located an empty drawing room, steered the man inside, and secured the door. The wall sconces had been lit in preparation for any guests wishing to find a quiet place for conversation.
Xavier shrugged off his jacket and laid it over the back of a chair. “Do you expect me to answer, or should we dispense with the pretense that you are ignorant to what you have done and get on with it?”
Lawrence gulped. “Get on with it?”
“It is within my rights to defend my betrothed’s reputation. I could issue a challenge, but my days are quite busy lately. I would prefer to see to the matter now.”
“Just one moment.” The man held up his hands and patted the air as if signaling Xavier to calm himself. “Let’s talk about this.”
Until that point, Xavier had kept his anger locked away, but it was close to breaking loose. He sensed the quickening of his heart; his hands curled into fists.
“I—I see you have heard about the misunderstanding involving Miss Darlington. I promise, I never touched her.”
“If that is true,” Xavier said through gritted teeth and stalked toward him, “why did you lie about kissing her?”
Lawrence slowly backed away. “Well, I did mention there was a misunderstanding, did I not? A blunder on my part, to be more accurate. I never meant any harm to come to her. Please, allow me to make amends. I will do anything.”
Xavier stopped his advance. “Anything?”
“Of course,” he said, nodding vigorously. “Anything you ask.”
“Recant. Tell your friends you fabricated the tale.”
The man recoiled. “Recant? I’m afraid I cannot do that. I would become a laughing stock. They already deride me for being shy, and there was that time I fainted at Madame Montgomery’s brothel.”
“So you tried to improve your standing among the gents by slandering an innocent lady.” Xavier shook his head and began rolling up his sleeves. “You are aware I have no other options. Do you have a preference on which eye I blacken first, or should I start with bloodying your nose?”
Mr. Lawrence’s face drained of color. “Are you serious? I have never been involved in a round of fisticuffs.”
“You won’t like it. That much I can guarantee.” Xavier sighed. “I did hope for a fair fight, but a man must do what he must for his lady.”
He took a step forward with his fists raised, and Lawrence cried out. “I will do it. I will recant.”
Xavier dropped his fists by his sides. “Very well. If I hear another word of this nonsense about Miss Darlington, you should expect a visit from me, and next time, I won’t be as forgiving.”
Lawrence thanked him and scrambled for the door.
It was just as well Xavier hadn’t needed to punch the blighter. If he’d dirtied his attire, he would have been forced to leave early, and he was looking forward to his and Regina’s first dance together.
Twenty-six
Regina was pleased when Aunt Beatrice woke at her usual time and was well enough to join her and her sisters in the library after breakfast. She and Evangeline dragged a wingback chair close to the window, so their aunt would have brighter light to work on her knitting. The late morning sunlight wouldn’t help her to see any better, but she sighed with pleasure as she sank into the chair. Cupid dutifully sat at her feet, looking at her in expectation.
“Warmth at last. I have been freezing all morning,” she said and patted the chair cushion in invitation for her dog to join her. Cupid leapt onto the chair, wedged his small body between Aunt Beatrice and the chair arm, and settled in for a nap.
Evangeline carried a stack of books to the library table to add to the other towering stacks. “Auntie,” she teased, “you would ask for a blanket in hell.”
“Evangeline, language!” Aunt Beatrice made a tsking noise, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.
Sophia, who had claimed a spot on the ladder, tossed a smile over her shoulder. “Shouldn’t she be sent to bed without supper? I could eat her dessert, so it doesn’t go to waste.”
“You always were a plotter,” Evangeline grumbled, but it was all in good fun.
Regina chuckled and grabbed a book from one of the towering stacks crowding the sturdy table. There was just enough space for one of them to flip through the books in search of the map. She fanned the pages before turning the book upside down and shaking it.
Aunt Beatrice looked up from her knitting. “What in heaven’s name are you doing, Regina?”
“Clearing the dust from the pages.”
“Why isn’t Mrs. Cox cleaning the library?”
“Dust makes her sneeze, Auntie,” Sophia said as she passed a book to Evangeline who was standing at the foot of the ladder.
“A maid with an aversion to dust? I have never heard of such a thing.”
It took a moment for Aunt Beatrice to realize Sophia was joking. “Oh, Sophia Anastasia Marietta Jane.” Aunt Beatrice snorted. “Jane? Whatever was your mother thinking when she chose names for you girls?”
Regina laughed. Only Aunt Beatrice would oppose a normal name like Jane. “If I recall, Papa insisted his mother’s name be included somewhere.”
“Such an unreasonable man,” Aunt Beatrice said with a pitying shake of her head and returned to her knitting.
Regina hardly thought allowing Mama free rein to name her daughters was the act of an unreasonable man. Smitten and indulgent? Absolutely. It was also a testament to how much Papa had loved her. And she had loved him in return. Therefore, each of her daughters bore the name Jane in addition to a Christian name shared with an angel.
“Was Mama always interested in angels?” Sophia asked. “Sometimes I drag out her charts just to see her handwriting.”
Aunt Beatrice’s face softened. “Not when she was a girl, but your mother and uncle were curious children. She was as likely to be caked in dirt as Charlie was. The two of them were always traipsing around the countryside in search of buried treasures.”
Evangeline returned to the table with a load of books in her arms. “I never knew Mama was interested in antiquities. It must be in my blood.”
“Oh, yes. She was heartbroken when Charlie left on his first expedition and your grandparents made her stay behind. Her interest in angels began after he returned and brought back his first find. It was a piece of a sculpture depicting an angel. She was intrigued by the fact he’d uncovered it in India.”
The front bell rang, interrupting the reminiscing.
“I will see who it is.” Evangeline placed the stack of books on the table and left to answer the door.
“Are you expecting Mr. Vistoire?” Sophia asked as she descended the ladder.
“Not until this afternoon. He has taken rooms at the Pulteney Hotel and is moving his belongings this morning.”
Aunt Beatrice muttered her approval. “The man is thinking ahead. You’ll need a place to spend your wedding night.”
Grabbing another book from the pile, Regina ducked her head as heat flooded over her, fearful if Auntie saw her face, she would know Regina and Xavier hadn’t exactly waited for their wedding night.
Her aunt chuckled. “You young girls fluster too easily.”
Evangeline returned with Crispin in tow before Aunt Beatrice said anything else embarrassing. “Look who I found lurking on the front stoop. Lord Margrave.”
Cupid’s head popped up at the mention of his favorite visitor’s name.
Crispin’s gaze darted toward Sophia. “I wasn’t lurking. I have come with a purpose.”
Sophia shrugged as if she didn’t care why he was at Wedmore House, but she abandoned her task to sit in a chair and fold her hands in her lap.
“The special license has been granted.” He pulled a folded paper from his jacket and brought it to Regina. “I took the liberty of speaking with Vicar Burnett, and he has agreed to perform the ceremony tomorrow morning at nine.”
Regina’s stomach pitched. “Tomorrow? That is sooner than I expected.” She’d hoped to find the map and remove it from Wedmore House before she and Xavier were expected to retire to the hotel.
“I will cancel with the vicar if you have come to your senses,” Crispin said. “Perhaps you would like more time to become acquainted with your betrothed.”
She smiled as sweetly as possible while grinding her teeth. Most ladies knew much less about their future husbands than Regina did about Xavier, but she couldn’t very well contradict Crispin without admitting to matters that were none of his concern.
“You are a dear friend.” Regina accepted the license and cupped his hand between hers. “Tomorrow will be grand. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.” His grim expression said otherwise. “Do you mind if I sit a moment?”
“Not at all,” Aunt Beatrice said. “You are always welcome at Wedmore House.”
He grabbed a library chair from the table and sat, tipping his head to the side to study the piles of books. “What are you doing to Wedmore’s library?”
“Dusting the shelves,” Sophia said with a slightly defiant edge to her tone.
“I see.” His brow furrowed, and he took a deep breath, releasing it in a slow stream. Considering he and Sophia had been at each other’s throats the last time they’d gathered, he was likely trying to control his temper. “Miss Sophia, this morning at the club I heard you have developed an interest in cartography.”
Sophia sat up straighter. “At your club? How could that be?”
“Your suitors were discussing it. They seemed perplexed by the possibility anyone would find the subject fascinating, much less a lady.”
Sophia bristled. “What does being a lady have to do with anything? Am I supposed to have wool between my ears and care only about gowns and bonnets?”
A grudging smile spread across his face. “Not all ladies have wool between their ears. I’ve always found Miss Darlington and Miss Evangeline better conversationalists than most gents.”
A scarlet flush climbed Sophia’s face. “My sisters are intelligent.” She surged to her feet, appearing ready to storm from the library. “And I’m just another dotty chit with nothing on her mind besides marriage.”
“I never said you were dotty.” Crispin grabbed her hand when she tried to bolt. “You are just as intelligent, I’m sure of it. But you must admit, you rarely engage in conversation with me, so it is difficult to form an opinion about what is between your ears.”
“Is it any wonder I avoid you when you insist on insulting me?” She tried to jerk her hand free, but he held tight.
Aunt Beatrice glanced up from her knitting, appearing not the least bit unsettled by their display. “Please don’t quarrel, children. It is growing tedious.”
Sophia gawked at their aunt.
“Do they argue often, Auntie?” Evangeline asked.
“Only every time they cross paths.”
Sophia glared at Crispin. “And only because he has a knack for being annoying.”
“I didn’t come here to insult you,” he said with an impressive modicum of decorum. “I was hoping to call a truce. Wedmore wouldn’t want us arguing like we have been.”
Sophia’s angry glower began to slip. “I am sure you are correct, and I don’t want to disappoint Uncle Charles. He considers you as close to a son as he will ever have.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping as if she was defeated. “Very well. I promise not to argue with you anymore.”
He smiled and released her arm. “I hope you will still challenge me occasionally. Otherwise the Season would become exceptionally dull.”
“We can’t even agree on not arguing.” She released an airy chuckle and plopped back into her seat.
“Yes, but we do have a common interest,” he said. “Cartography. When I travel, I chart the lay of the land.”
Regina came forward. “I never knew that about you. How long have you drawn maps?”
Crispin shrugged. “As long as I can recall. I used to copy old maps when I was a child. Then I drew maps of our house and neighborhood.”
“Did you ever draw any for Uncle Charles from your travels?”
“A couple of times, maybe. Why do you ask?”
Regina waved off his question. “Curiosity. We were discussing Mama and Uncle Charles earlier. It is fun to discover new facts about others.”
His strong brows lowered over his hazel eyes. For one tense moment, she worried he would question her further. Instead, he swung his attention back to Sophia.
“There is a noon lecture at the museum on travel routes used during the Crusades and the men who charted the terrain. Given your interest in such subjects, I thought you might like to accompany me.”
“We accept,” Regina blurted.
Crispin’s jaw muscles bulged, and when he smiled, it was more a gritting of teeth than an expression of pleasure
. “You should join us as well, Miss Darlington.”
“I would be delighted.” She flashed an innocent smile, fully recognizing the sarcasm in his voice and choosing to ignore it. “Thank you.”
“Aren’t your forgetting someone, Regina?” Aunt Beatrice piped up. “You are expecting Mr. Vistoire.”
“Not until much later.”
“Be that as it may, you are not an appropriate chaperone for your sister, at least not until after your wedding.” Her aunt folded her knitting with the needles tucked inside and bent forward to drop it in her sewing basket, waking Cupid again. “I will resume chaperone duties.”
“Auntie,” Regina said, “Dr. Portier recommended you rest for the next few days.”
“I will have plenty of time to sleep. I am attending a lecture.”
Further protests proved futile, so Regina conceded. “Very well. Evangeline and I will finish cleaning the library while you are gone. In the meantime, I can assist Sophia into a fresh gown.”
Regina linked arms with her youngest sister and hauled her from the chair. When they reached Sophia’s chambers above stairs, Sophia placed her hands on her hips. “While you and Aunt Beatrice were debating who should perform chaperone duties, no one thought to ask if I would like to go to the lecture.”
Regina swept to Sophia’s wardrobe and flung the doors open. “You must go. The man who wants the map could be at the lecture.” She snatched a green walking dress from a peg then presented it to Sophia for her approval.
She shook her head. “The blue one, please.”
Regina exchanged the green gown for the blue and brought it to the bed. “I am sorry, Sophia. I realize Crispin tries your patience, but one of us should be at the museum today. You needn’t question anyone. Just take note of the speaker and who attends his lecture.”
Sophia dropped on the side of the bed, rested her elbows on her knees, and propped her chin in her hand. “I understand that I must go, and I will, but what if Margrave asks me a question I cannot answer? I know nothing about maps.”
Secrets to a Gentleman's Heart (Gentlemen of Intrigue Book 1) Page 20